


a honeymoon in ibiza

by Kingscunt



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Amputation, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explosions, Honeymoon, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Torture, brief mention of merlahad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 21:31:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14121258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingscunt/pseuds/Kingscunt
Summary: Merlin promises Percival and Lancelot a week to themselves. After all, they've worked so hard, and it's their honeymoon.But of course when you're a spy, there's no such thing as time off.





	a honeymoon in ibiza

**Author's Note:**

> this was a one shot written for my roommate :) 
> 
> agentpercivals.tumblr.com

Their wedding night had been probably the best night of their lives. Truth be told, Alastair never thought he would find ‘the one’, let alone marry. But James, as annoying as he was, was truly perfect in every way possible. The Kingsman agents had put a bet on who would cry first at the altar - only Merlin had bet Alastair would cry first. That man had made a hell of a lot of money that day…

 

Now, they were on their way to Ibiza for their honeymoon. It had taken such a long time for the pair to agree on the location - James wanted beaches while Alastair wanted peace and quiet. In the end, they’d decided that the quieter side of Ibiza would be perfect, and James couldn’t have been more excited.

 

“Usually I don’t grant time off with this much short notice, but you’re two of my best agents and you deserve a honeymoon.” Merlin huffed through the comms. “Galahad and Tristan are covering for you until you get home. I’ll keep your servers up in case of an emergency, but you won’t be hearing from me for a week. Lucky sods.”

 

James beamed as he looked out of the taxi window. They were near their hotel now - a luxury hotel that looked on to the beautiful Ibiza sea. The weather was such a nice change to the usual freezing rain they had to suffer in London - it was so hot that James was shirtless, and even Alastair had rolled up his sleeves. 

 

“Thank you, Merlin. We’ll contact you in case anything happens. But in all honesty, the most risky thing we’ll be doing is drinking a dangerous amount of cocktails on the beach.” James snorted, before hanging up. He couldn’t wait to relax, the last few months had been absolute hell… and judging by the way Alastair was nearly falling asleep, curled up into a ball while resting his head on the window, he needed this break, too. By the time they’d pulled up outside of their hotel, Alastair had already fallen asleep. James took a few seconds to watch his husband, smiling softly at the sweet sight, before gently nudging him in attempt to wake him up. “Come on, darling. We’re here.”

  
  
  


The pair made their way up to their hotel room. The view was absolutely gorgeous, with panoramic views of the sea spanning as much as the eye could see. The sky was brighter and there wasn’t a cloud to be seen. James flopped on to the bed while Alastair started to look around the room thoroughly.

 

“Al, love. Take a break. It’s fine.”

 

“How do you know that? James, you’re a spy, you should know to check everywhere for bugs.”

 

“Well, yes, but we’re on our honeymoon. Relax, just switch off for a week, alright?” James said softly, walking over to Alastair and wrapping his arms around him. To James’ surprise, Alastair returned the hug, resting his head on the man’s chest. 

 

“You’re right. I’ll try.” Alastair sighed, turning around to James. He reached James’ hair and ran his fingers through it, resting into him. He was right - Alastair knew he could be a little paranoid sometimes… alright, a lot more than a little paranoid. But sometimes it was hard to switch off, especially when you’re a spy working for an elite independent organisation… James pulled Alastair on to the bed, making the man fall on top of him.

 

“What’s the worst that can happen, anyway? Nobody dies in Ibiza.” James said breezily as he reached for the TV remote. “We have a huge flat screen TV, a fridge full of alcohol and a kettle so you don’t need to be such a grumpy bastard in the mornings.”

 

Alastair looked at James with a deadpan expression on his face. “Are you trying to tell me that nobody has ever died in Ibiza? Tell me James, what makes Ibiza so special that you can’t die here?” he climbed up further on the bed, resting his head on the headboard. “For the record, I’m only moody in the mornings because I have to deal with you.”

 

“That and your awful addiction to coffee.”

 

“That’s true.”

 

With that, Alastair pulled James in for a soft kiss. He felt surprisingly content right now - yes, he was still a little on edge since he wasn’t able to check for bugs, but being with James, having a holiday for once, was something that he needed so desperately. He watched James, studying the man’s face as he laughed at the awful comedy show that was on the TV. That smile always just made Alastair fall in love with him even more. He never thought that was possible.

  
  
  


That night, they’d spent some time on the beach and had dinner at one of the nearby restaurants. James could tell Alastair was a little on edge at first, always checking over his shoulder. He felt somewhat bad - he didn’t have nearly enough time off work as he should have, and it had obviously taken its toll on him. But as the night went on, he relaxed, and they arrived back at their room, drunker than they’d ever been. James’ shirt had disappeared and his tie was tied around his head and he’d been singing all the way back, much to Alastair’s disdain. Needless to say, Alastair was taken aback when James pushed him into the wall, kissing him roughly and running his hands up his shirt. It took all of their strength to keep themselves upright in their drunken haze but neither of them could have given less of a fuck right now. 

 

James couldn’t deny that he was more than a little frustrated as he heard his glasses ring in his pocket. Alastair pulled James closer, dragging his nails down James’ back and giving him a silent, clear message:  _ Fuck Merlin, we’re busy right now _ . But the glasses rung again, and they both knew James had to answer. For Merlin to call twice, on their holiday no less, meant that something was wrong.

 

“You best have a good reason to be calling me right now.” James said angrily.

 

“I do. I know I said that I wouldn’t bother you on your holiday, but something has come up and we need you two to work on it.”

 

James sat down on the bed, head in his hands. “Alright, what’s happened? What do we need to do?”

 

“If I could send other agents I would but the only agents I have available are too inexperienced, and it’s… happening in your area. We’ve just gathered new intelligence of a terrorist organisation. The Richardsons, a wealthy family, moved to Ibiza a few years ago. They’re planning attacks all over the island and we need you to take them down. There’s not enough time to fuck around with this.”

 

James was stunned… and honestly, pissed off. All he wanted was to have a nice honeymoon with his new husband, some time off from saving the world for just one fucking second. He looked over to Alastair, who’d crawled into bed and had seemed to have passed out already. “Alright. Bloody hell, how long have we got? Where are they based?”

 

“They seem to have their quarters on a street not too far from their hotel. From what we’ve gathered, they’re planning on attacking tomorrow evening when it gets busy, so you’ll have time tonight to sober up, because I can tell that you are fucking sloshed right now. I’ll send you the address.”

 

“Thanks, Merlin.” James said quickly, hanging up from the comms and gently shaking his snoring husband. “Al, wake up. It’s important. Oh, for God’s sake, stop snoring and wake up, you silly git.”

 

Alastair opened his eyes and looked at James as if he’d just murdered his entire family. “What? For fucks sake James, I’m tired and I want to sleep, we can fuck tomorrow-”

 

“There’s a terrorist ring we need to attend to. I know it’s not ideal, but we can always come back… the safety of citizens lives always comes first.”

 

“Fuck them.” Alastair muttered, rolling back over to sleep. James wanted to punch him… but then, it was probably the booze and tiredness speaking. He shuffled further to Alastair and flicked him on the head.

 

“Babe, we need to sort this. We’ll sleep now, considering we’re both absolutely fucked, but we need to be up early to figure this all out, alright? Get some sleep and I’ll wake you up.”

 

“I was getting some sleep until you woke me up.” With that, Alastair was asleep almost immediately. James chuckled and fell asleep next to him fairly quickly, his arms wrapped over Alastair and their legs in a tangle. 

  
  


The next morning was absolute hell. He woke up at 5AM and almost threw his phone out of the window. His head was pounding and his eyes were burning. Nothing a couple of ibuprofen wouldn’t fix… James gently woke Alastair up, putting a cup of coffee on the bedside table next to him. 

 

“Good morning darling. I’m sorry it’s so early, but I made you a strong coffee and yes, there’s some ibuprofen right here.” James watched Alastair roll around in bed, frowning and definitely regretting drinking so much last night. He eventually pulled himself up, hair sticking out in every direction, squinting at James as he downed the pills with the coffee.

 

“So, terrorist organisation. What’s happening?” 

 

James pulled out his laptop and started reading up the intelligence files Merlin had sent him. “They’re an uncle and a nephew, in their 30s and 50s. They’ve planned a host of attacks in the island in attempt to clear it out… they sound like a right crazy pair of bastards. They live here,” James said, pointing out their house on a map. Alastair put on his glasses and looked closer.

 

“Ah, yes, we passed that street on the way to the restaurant last night.”

 

“How do you know that? This is the first time we’ve been here.”

 

“I memorise street names quickly.”

 

James rolled his eyes and continued reading the file. “They seem to have hired men to set off bombs around all the busiest areas… They’ve stocked quite an impressive amount of explosives from what their bank statements say. I’d say we have til midday to figure out our plan, since they seem to be planning to bomb the areas in the evening.”

 

“Alright, we infiltrate the safehouse, take down the henchmen, and then the family. Plan solved. Can I go back to sleep now?”

 

“No, we really need to sort this as soon as possible. Alastair, I know you’re tired and I know you’re not happy that we’ve been called on mission on our honeymoon and believe me, I’m not happy about it either, but this is just part of the parcel of being a spy. We should have seen this coming.” He pinched Alastair’s cheek and gave him a quick kiss. “How are you feeling now? We should leave soon… it won’t be very busy right now, so we can get there quickly without much suspicion.”

 

Alastair nodded. He looked outside and noticed it wasn’t completely light yet… he was just happy that he’d packed their suits and weapons just in case this happened. It seemed that being paranoid had paid off this time. “You’re right. Alright, let me get dressed. I’m feeling fucking dreadful, to be honest.”

 

The pair got dressed and loaded their weapons. They figured they would maybe look a little out of place, dressed in immaculate bespoke suits in the 30 degrees heat on a tourist island, but they couldn’t risk the possibility of being shot. At least the suits gave them some sort of protection. They set up their comms lines and headed out, giving the hotel receptionist a quick nod as they walked through the hall. 

 

“What weapons have we got?” James asked once they were outside on the quiet street. Alastair looked down to the bag, trying to remember.

 

“Two 9mm pistols, a few grenades, a couple of knives, some poison darts… oh, and a machete.”

 

“Why in God’s name have we got a machete?”

 

“They can be fun to use in certain circumstances.”

 

James raised an eyebrow but he didn’t question Alastair. He knew the man loved using knives, and at least they had their guns. The poison laced shoe blades and signet rings could come in handy too, if it came down to it, so James was feeling a little relieved. They found the house - fairly posh, on a quiet street. A light was on upstairs, so it was more than likely someone was in… but then, nobody was stupid enough to leave a house full of explosives unattended.

 

James turned to Alastair, pulling his arm to stop the man from walking. He pointed to an alley, and they quickly walked into it, shrouded by darkness. Alastair dropped the bag and grabbed his weapons, and James grabbed his. “So, plan. Who’s taking out who?”

 

“I’ll take upstairs and you can take downstairs.” Alastair said. He looked around and leaned closer to James, speaking in a hushed voice. “I saw movement in the windows, so they’re in. As long as we take out the family, we can guard the house and get back up from one of the surrounding HQs. Spain HQ should have a few agents free on standby in case there’s more of them than we thought.”

 

“Alright, darling. Come on then.” James led the way, walking past the house and trying to see any open windows. They walked to the end of the road. “The front window is open just a tad. I’m hoping it will open enough for us to be able to climb in.”

  
  
  


James was amazed to find that the window opened more than enough for them to be able to climb in with ease. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself about this family’s lack of security - surely if they were planning something as big as this, they would have CCTV, someone watching the rooms… hell, not leaving the front window open, for God’s sake. Alastair checked around for bugs, and James watched him freeze. 

 

“What’s up, love?”

 

Alastair motioned at his neck, trying to get the man to shut up. He did the familiar gesture that James knew, and he kept quiet, walking over as quietly as possible to look at the tiny microphone that was hidden in a plant. Alastair silently took out his knife and severed the cables.

 

“We still need to be quiet. We don’t know how many there are.” Alastair whispered almost inaudibly. He nodded when a message flashed up on his screen - NICE JOB, PERCIVAL.

But they still had a lot of work to do. “Start looking down here. I’m heading upstairs.” Alastair made his way upstairs and James got to work. He crept around as slowly as he could, keeping to the walls where the floorboards were quieter. Popping his head around one door, he saw one man sitting at a table, reading some sort of paper. He was never more relieved to have a silencer attached, and put a bullet through the man’s head, satisfied to see the man drop to the table. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around. There certainly wasn’t anyone downstairs now - they must have been in another safehouse. 

 

“Merlin, I’ve secured the downstairs. Percival is upstairs right now, but there is nobody down here. Are there any other safehouses?”

 

“I’ll try and figure it out. For now, get out. Head back to the hotel - it’s the safest there and I can hack through their CCTV to keep a watch. I’ll let Percival know to just meet you there. It’ll be too suspicious if you leave together.”

 

“Good point.”

 

“Thank you, Lancelot.”

 

Meanwhile,Alastair was finishing up on checking around. He’d done his best to be quiet, and severed two more bugs. The amount of explosives was lethal, and it made even him feel somewhat nervous. There was no sign of anyone in though, so he started to make his way down the stairs, ready to go back to the hotel and figure out the next plan of action. What he wasn’t expecting was to have a rag shoved under his nose, a slightly sweet smell hitting his nostrils, before he passed out. 

  
  
  


“Merlin. It’s been an hour. Percival should have been back half an hour ago at the latest.” James said, pacing back and forth anxiously. It wasn’t like Alastair to take this long - he was always quick and efficient. 

 

“Is there a reason why Percival’s comms line is down?” Merlin asked. He was even starting to get nervous now. “I can’t make contact with him. For God’s sake, this is just what I need…”

 

“This is just what you need? I can’t get in contact with my husband, when we shouldn’t even fucking be on mission, Merlin. Alastair could be fucking dead for all I know, on our fucking honeymoon.” James spat. He knew he had a hell of a mouth on him when he was angry, but right now he didn’t care - he couldn’t help the overwhelming panic.

 

“ _ Percival _ . We’re on comms, Lancelot, there’s no time for emotion right now. We need to get to the bottom of this.” There was a ringing noise, before it cut off. “His line is completely down. You need to go back.”

 

James had tears in his eyes. He couldn’t lose his husband, not now, not ever. “I’m on my way.”

  
  
  


Alastair slowly came to, tied up to a chair in the bedroom. He felt dizzy and frankly, like shit. The cable ties were cutting into his wrists, and the rope was so tight around his waist it felt like he couldn’t breathe properly. He looked up to see a younger man - ah, it must have been the nephew. Alastair couldn’t make out very much - they’d taken his glasses, and he didn’t only wear them to keep in contact with Merlin.

 

“Ah, glad to see you’re awake.” The man said, pacing around Alastair. He was holding something, but Alastair couldn’t quite make out what. “Pretty fancy tech, those glasses. Must have cost a bomb… I’d say you must make a lot of money with whatever you work as, but clearly you mustn't, considering you’re robbing my house.”

 

Alastair glared at the man. He couldn’t believe this - he’d never been compromised. The man leaned down next to Alastair, glasses still in his hand. “Well, here’s the thing. I know you’re not robbing my house. I’m not too sure what or who you’re working for, so here’s the deal, and I’ll put it simple for you. You tell me who you’re working for or I’ll slash your fucking throat.” There was a lot more venom in his voice now, dripping with anger, but Alastair wasn’t going to break this easily. 

 

“Fuck off.”

 

Oh, he didn’t take kindly to that. Hatred spread across the nephew’s face and he walked behind Alastair. One by one, he snapped Alastair’s fingers, the sickening crunch making him want to throw up. It fucking hurt and he couldn’t stop himself from grunting in pain. 

 

“Are you going to talk now, sweetheart?” Alastair simply shook his head. He felt the cool metal of the sharp blade slice his skin as the man started carving at his back. They weren’t deep enough to bleed out, he could tell that instantly, but it was agony. 

 

“I’m not going to tell you anything, so you may as well kill me now.” Alastair spat. He was ready to take his job to the grave… it was just a pity that this had to happen on their honeymoon. Where the fuck was James? He was a damsel in distress, James would have lapped this right up. The nephew nodded and pulled out his phone, texting someone before shoving it back in his pocket. 

  
  
  


“I’ve just gathered some more intel. It looks like he’s taking Percival to their other safe house, two miles away. Spain HQ has sent two agents, and Galahad is en route. His ETA is around half an hour, but he’s not very happy, as he’s just come back from Siberia.”   
  


“Do you think I give a damn about how Galahad is feeling? My fucking husband might die, I’ve got bigger things on my mind right now.” James felt bad for snapping at Merlin, but he was too stressed to think rationally right now. “I was on my way to the original safehouse, but if you send me the address to the new one, then I’ll get right there.” 

 

As soon as Merlin sent James the address, he headed off, never so anxious in his life. Now he knew how Alastair felt when he’d got kidnapped… the feeling made James consider if he wanted to continue with this job. Was it worth risking their lives constantly? Really though, James knew that this was the only job he could handle. Even if nobody knew about the work he did, it was too rewarding knowing that he saved lives on a weekly basis. 

 

The other agents had already arrived by the time James got there, and they went to work. Four of them there meant that it was easy to clear them out, and judging how many were there, they’d taken out most of them. There was no uncle and nephew to be seen though… and no Alastair, either. James really was starting to panic now.

 

They blew up the safehouse, destroying all the explosives inside. It was quite the sight, with how big the explosion was. James would have loved watching it if he had an idea of where his fucking husband was taken to.

 

“Lancelot. Galahad. You need to get rid of the other house. Throw a grenade in, I’ve already got a plane on standby as close as possible. There will be a taxi waiting at the end of the street… try not to blow yourselves up by accident.”

  
  
  


Alastair was still in the previous safehouse. His eye was swollen shut from the blow to his face, his back was searing in pain and his ribs were crushed from the amount of kicks he’d had to withstand. But he’d still kept his mouth shut, although it was getting difficult now. Alastair just wanted the man to kill him now, put him out of his misery. This was all too much.

 

“For the last time. Are you going to talk?”

 

“Fuck you, and fuck your uncle. I’m not telling you anything. I told you that as soon as I woke up, you thick fuck.” He watched as the man pulled out the blade again, but he distracted when he heard the door open and pulled out his gun, only to put it back down when an older man walked into the room.

 

The older man looked Alastair up and down, snarling. “Our men have been killed and the safehouse was blown up. I figure this man has something to do with it?”

 

“Yeah, take a look at these glasses, mate. Fucking spies. I’m glad I didn’t go there now, I was planning on moving him there...” The uncle walked closer to Alastair and leaned closely to his face. 

 

“You fuckers have some nerve, thinking that you can take us out.”

 

“Well, from what I’ve just heard, we’ve taken most of you out already.” Alastair replied, smirking. That earned him another punch, splitting his lip open, and he spat blood at him. “What? Oh, I apologise. That was so very rude of me.”

 

“Why haven’t you killed him yet?” The uncle snarled.

 

“I was about to, before you turned u-- oh, shit!” they both ducked as a grenade flew through the window, and with that, the building was obliterated.

  
  
  


James had arrived at the plane, tears streaming down his cheeks. He had to leave - if not, he’d certainly be apprehended by police for mass murder and destruction, but Alastair was still nowhere to be seen. He was certainly dead… They probably killed him before he had a chance to save him. On their honeymoon. They were married for two days. James wiped his eyes, but he there was no point because he just couldn’t stop crying.

 

The love of his life. Gone.

 

Wrong place, wrong time. If only they just went somewhere like Paris. They’d be sitting in a restaurant right now, bickering over what food to order and getting far too drunk. He was inconsolable. 

 

“Lancelot. We’re working on finding Percival. Just know that even if… even if it comes to the worst, we’ll make sure we have his…” Merlin couldn’t bring himself to say it, and it broke his heart to hear James cry even harder. Harry was at a loss of what to do. There was nothing he could do or say that would make James feel better. He just watched as James drank himself silly until he was finally slumped over the table and the crying had slowly faded into sleep. 

  
  
  


Harry had left James in the plane when they arrived back at the HQ. He had long passed out, and Harry figured it was kinder to let him sleep, than to wake up and still be drunk and hurting. He walked into Merlin’s office without knocking - a small privelidge he enjoyed. Just one of the perks of being married to him. Merlin turned to Harry, a crestfallen look on his face. 

 

“The last two were killed in the second explosion. Percival was also in that house. Tristan has just confirmed it, the police haven’t confirmed the bodies but I’m almost certain it was them.”

 

Harry stayed silent, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking this head. Fuck. They’d accidentally killed an agent…  _ James _ had accidentally killed his own husband. “I… I assume they found his body, then.”

 

“I don’t know how he’s managed it, but he’s alive. In hospital, but in a very critical condition. I don’t trust their doctors so we’re flying him back here to stay in medical. I reckon his suit took enough shock to keep him hanging by a thread, but it’s very tough and go right now.”

 

Harry sighed in relief, but it was still heartbreaking to hear. “I suppose I’ll have to go and tell James. He’s currently sleeping of the copious amount of alcohol he drank on the way home.”

 

“Good idea. Bless him, poor lad. I’d have done the same thing if it was you.” 

 

“I know, darling, I know.”

 

James wasn’t happy to be woken up by Harry. He was still incredibly drunk and his chest was still aching horribly. Fuck. Alastair. He was gone. He was gone, gone, gone… he started crying almost instantly and Harry sat down next to him.

 

“James. Stop crying and listen to me. We found Alastair.” James pulled his head up to look at Harry through bloodshot eyes. 

 

“Is he okay? Where is he?”

 

“Ah…” Harry started, shuffling awkwardly. “He’s alive. Barely. He’s being flown back to medical, but he’s critical, James. I can’t lie to you about that.”

 

James sniffed and nodded. Alright, he was alive at least. That was good. He dreaded to think of what could possibly happen… “What happened? Can I see him?” Harry froze. Fuck, he couldn’t lie to James, but he knew that it was going to kill him.

 

“James. Please don’t blame yourself for this, but… The safehouse. The one we blew up before we had to flee. Alastair was in there. We should have checked… I should have known better than to just blow somewhere up while an agent was missing. I’m so sorry.”

 

Fucking hell. James felt like he’d just been shot in the chest. It was his fault. His fucking fault, how could he have been so stupid? He felt like all the air had been sucked out of the plane, because he could not get a breath for the life of him.

 

“James. Breathe. It’s okay.” Harry reassured. A message flashed up on his screen and he tapped it away. “He’s just arrived. They need to do some work, but once he’s stable, you can see him.”

 

“And what if he doesn’t become stable? What if he…”

 

“Let’s not think about that right now.” Harry said. He raised a bottle of whiskey. “How about we have a drink?” Sure, it was probably a terrible idea, but it seemed like the both of them needed it right now. They both drank all evening, Harry holding James, in tears himself. Another fuck up. First Lee, now one of his best friends.

  
  
  


Merlin was somewhat stunned to find the pair asleep over the table. “James. Harry.” he cleared his throat, and the two slowly raised their heads. God, James looked like shit. Puffy eyes from all the crying… “James. Would you like to see Alastair?”

 

Of course James jumped at the opportunity. “Yes.” he followed Merlin anxiously, getting irritated. Why was the man walking so bloody slow? He would have just ran straight past, but he didn’t want to be rude. 

 

“James. Before you go in, I need to make you aware-”

 

“With all due respect, as long as he’s alive, I don’t care what you have to say. I’m sorry.” Merlin opened his mouth to protest, but it was too late. James had already walked into Alastair’s med bay.

 

Alastair was awake. A splitting headache from the concussion and his whole body felt like it was burning, but he was alive. Minus a leg. Which he was pissed off about, but he was alive. That was all that mattered. He’d been told he was incredibly lucky, with the magnitude of the explosion, but the suit really had taken enough shock to keep him alive. He’d never been so happy to see James, and it broke his heart to see how awful James had looked. James immediately ran over and took his hand, sitting at the chair next to him. They didn’t say anything for a long while, just taking one another in.

 

James eyes darted down and that’s when he noticed Alastair’s missing leg. He immediately began to tear up… fuck, this wasn’t fair at all. He’d caused his husband to lose his leg. Lose his job, forced to give up his career. 

 

“James. James, sweetheart, stop crying. None of that.” Alastair said, voice croaky from the smoke. He wiped James’ tears away and pulled him close. “It’s okay. Merlin’s going to sort me out with a prosthesis. It could be worse. I’m alive.”

 

“Do you even know what happened?”

 

“You and Galahad threw a grenade in. You didn’t know I was in there. Merlin explained everything. It’s not your fault, you did what you needed to do to stop them. You killed them, that’s what matters.” Alastair clung on to James as tightly as he could. “Don’t blame yourself. I’m alive and that’s what matters.”

 

James couldn’t get rid of the gut wrenching ache deep inside him. Here his husband was, acting like this was okay, when he should have hated James more than anything or anyone. He didn’t deserve Alastair. “But… Al, love, God, I… I should have double checked.”

 

“Shit happens.” James had never seen him this relaxed… but then, it could have been the painkillers speaking. His eyes widened and he gently grabbed Alastair’s hands after seeing him start pulling at the IV cables attached to him. “Get these bloody things out of me, James.” No, that was typical Alastair. He must have been genuine - he really wasn’t angry with James.

 

“Darling, you know they need to stay in. I know you don’t like them, I’m sorry.” James kissed his hand and bit his lip. “I’ll do everything I can to make you as comfortable as possible. I know life’s probably going to be difficult to get used to.”

 

Alastair shrugged. “It is what it is. Just be prepared for me to get awfully frustrated with myself for a while.” He closed his eyes and yawned, wincing a little in pain. “I… need to sleep… please stay. Please don’t leave.”

 

Alastair had never sounded so desperate for James to stay. Of course he’d stay with him, he was planning on sleeping in the chair, anyway. He watched Alastair shuffle back in his bed lately, so he sat next to him, stroking his hair. “We’ll get through this, love. I promise. You’re so strong. I love you so much.”

 

“I… love you too.” James watched Alastair until he fell asleep. He may have been missing a leg, and it was going to take a long time for him to get used to it missing, let alone having a prosthesis fitted, but he was alive. But if James was certain of one thing, it was that they sure as fuck weren’t going to Ibiza ever again.


End file.
